


Play Nice, It's Just A Game

by infectiousKnowledge



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectiousKnowledge/pseuds/infectiousKnowledge
Summary: Dream, a villain under the cover of night is known for his way of constantly outsmarting any form of authorities trying to catch him.Techno will become his long-standing vigilante rival, his favorite pawn to play with.The world is like a chessboard, and Dream will make sure he controls the pieces. People do what they do because he lets them. Because, in reality?No one is free, they're all trapped- under Dream's thumb.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	1. Warnings

Warning: This book contains...

Kidnapping,

Torture

School Bombings

Blood

Death

Murder

Corpses

Weapons

Psychotic Behavior

Obsession

Near-Death Experiences

Psychopathy

Mature Themes

Sexual Themes

Toxic Relationships

Dubious Consent

and more to be added as the story progresses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the Dreamnoblade Disccorddd: [REDACTED]


	2. One - Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2019 Words

Tip.

Tap...

Tip.

Tap...

Feet echoed through a small dark hall, lightly. A small pitter-patter, unlike the booming steps, getting closer. Hands with fingerless gloves on them came up to one of the alleyway walls, dragging a hand through one of the crevices between the bricks- fingers picking at the mortar. He was meeting someone, and by the sound of footsteps getting louder, he knew they'd be at him any second.

He just smiled under his mask, almost splitting his face in half. His eyes a bright emerald green behind the shield of anonymity. The mask he was donning seemed to shift and smile with him, though it was probably a trick of the faint lighting in the dim, dark alley.

He sighed behind it, feeling his breath hit the inside of the mask and bounce back to his face in a strange way. Another light step from him equated to five from his chaser. They were nearing, ever closer than before. They didn't have time to react or change course, the masked man hopped up and stuck a foot out to trip them. It worked, the telltale sound of a blade sliding against cement and a person grunting.

"I've been waiting for you." He didn't talk much, voice reflecting that in the way it cracked- hoarse and dry. The person who was now on the ground didn't respond to him, they just shot up- reaching for the discarded blade. They weren't able to get to it though, a foot kicking them back onto the ground and landing on their throat. "You didn't answer me." The masked boy leaned over him- nearly all the way down to put their faces close. The dirty blonde's mask's face still smiled, though the dim lighting made it unsettling- as if hiding immense anger behind it.

His next victim was struggling, unable to get the shoe off of their windpipe. The masked boy continued to grin, eyes dulling, a glimmer of something sinister in his emerald orbs. Their prey was still struggling, turning blue in the face. "Dr-eam..." The foot was removed immediately and the boy lifted his mask a tiny bit to show off his grin, eyes still hidden.

"Oh, George~ better luck next time." The mentioned 'Dream' knelt down to George and placed a hand on his cheek, cupping it. He continued to grin caressing his cheek with a calloused thumb. However affectionate the gesture may have seemed- it wasn't anywhere near as loving as one would think. Sure the touch was soft, and the grin less manic- but it all changed in a second. The hand swiftly moved to George's throat, keeping him down and forcing him to fight for breath again. "Shhhhh..."

The struggling ceased and the sunglasses on the brunette's head slipped from their hair, onto the pavement. Their eyes were dark, losing life by the second. Dream smiling all the while.

"What's my name, George?" The voice was still creaky, throat still dry. The boy on the ground just slowly looked up to meet where the hoodied boy's eyes would be.

"As of now..?" He blinked, once. The second blink was incomplete, closing his eyes and not opening them. "You're a Nightmare." His small smile slacking, breath stopping, heart slowing. Dream let go of the boy's throat, confident they had passed out. He fixed his mask, a noise echoing in his brain.

Not in his brain- in the alley. A small click, a glint. He ducked down and rolled to the side, sprung up and turned around to grab a blade swung at his head. Chin tilted downwards the masks happy smile once again seemed sinister.

"Sapnap~" Dream wasn't facing his new 'friend' but he could tell they were scared. He could sense their fear from where he was standing. The knife he was holding was cutting the fabric of his gloves, angering Dream further. "It's like you're not even trying."

The aforementioned Sapnap stared at George on the ground. "Because-"

"Why?" Dream, in one swift motion, twisted his aggressor's wrist so they'd drop their weapon. "Because you don't want to hurt me?" He pushed the raven to the ground next to the unconscious George.

It worked of course, they stumbled- the green hoodied boy dropping to straddle his friend's chest and wrap his hands around their throat. Sapnap just nodded once, unable to speak.

"That's sweet... But not what I asked you to do." He squeezed, tightening his grip. "You're both getting better by the way... You can run along now." He stood up, walking away from his friends, shuffling noises echoing behind him. He didn't get far- another knife that looked identical to the ones George and Sapnap had brandished against him.

It stuck right through his chest and he coughed, blood splattering against the inside of the mask. His new antagonist, he forgot about them. He just sighed, coughing again, the red, dense liquid dripping down his chin.

"Bad..." His eyes were boring into Bad's, though the other couldn't see that. He could only see the mask, the sinister smile. A gloved hand simply removed the blade, throwing it to the ground and hearing the clatter, now patting at the slowly bleeding spot. "Good job." The masked boy took a heaving breath, hand reaching out to put a hand on the new guy's shoulder. The blood dripped onto the neck of his hoodie, staining the green fabric with crimson. Part of it was already soaked red over the wound.

Bad let out a sigh, seeing the injured Dream always made them all feel just a little bit better. Even if they were 'friends', all of them were still startled and scared by his presence. He pulled his hand back, pushing his glasses up on his face, and over bleach-white eyes that gave off light even when closed.

Dream didn't have any sort of powers, but those running into him would say he was manipulative and smart- incredibly so.

He walked a bit down the alley, swiping a finger behind him, the other hand landing on his mask. "Both you and Sapnap can take George back, I guess." He coughed again, obscuring his vision with maroon red. He had made sure the cautious footsteps had left before reaching into his hood and around his head to unhook the strap the mask was connected to.

He gently pulled his hands away from his face, mask going with. His green, emerald eyes, seemed to glow in the darkness. One hand kept itself on the bloody porcelain while the other came up to cover his face, tangling in dirty blonde hair for a second before letting go.

He didn't have his face exposed like this very much, only taking his mask off for school- he frowned then remembering he had school in the morning.

All those articles about him not having a 'superpower' were false. He just didn't use it because it wasn't useful for combat. The mask was slipped back onto his face, himself and his clothes melting into the air and his mind going elsewhere.

The scene changed from an alleyway to a convenience store, someone asleep on the job. Dream's hands slowly materialized from out of thin air- arms following and then his shoulders and the rest of him. His mask was last as he wrapped his arms around the sleeping person's face, covering their mouth and starting to choke them. "Were you having sweet dreams..?" He could tell, in fact, they were in the dream still- the boy having warped it to have the person feel they were awake.

He choked them of course, depriving them of oxygen even after they passed out. He opened his second eyes, now truly in the real world, the person asleep on the desk, tossing and turning in the nightmare created. An eternal sleep that wasn't death.

He walked out, grabbing a bag of chips on his way and opening it to eat them. He had forgotten lunch that day and was a little peckish, it already being after normal dinnertime. He strolled along the streets, hearing screams behind him and the sound of sirens- officers going to check it out after having been called.

His wound had healed in the dreamscape he created, the dreamscape he stole, and morphed into his own creation to torment that poor worker. There was no sign he was ever hurt, save for the blood still on his clothes. It was a silent walk home.

【－－－】

He had awoken in the morning, in his own bed, in his apartment he shared with his friend. His mask was gone from his face, hoodie discarded to wash when his roommate wasn't looking or paying attention. He yawned and sat up, stretching his arms out and looking around. The sheets in his hands now were soft, a nice blanket, a nice distraction from class. He swiftly stood up from the bed, peering around for his roommate. It seemed they weren't home at the time so he didn't really feel like he had to be all too cautious.

With laundry starting, he stared out the window at the city below. Florida, unlike New York, was not crime-riddled too much- Dream had the whole state under his thumb. While many villains competed to rule the larger cities, Dream had the whole place to himself.

Clay though... Clay didn't have any of it. Clay was a college student who was going to be starting school in New York within the hour. He had said goodbye to Florida, wishing it luck without his alter ego to strike fear into them all. His roommate had suspicions about him so it was the perfect time to leave anyway.

He had been stalking the streets of New York the past week, meeting up with old friends like last night. He was ready to claim his crown, and take the throne of New York from whoever held it.

Clay stared at the mirrored version of himself in the window, clenching his hands into tight fists. He could probably come back to Orlando now and then, it was always easy to travel through dreams.

A smile broke out on his face, freckles shifting with the way his lips parted a teeny bit. He slipped a finger down the window, the cold glass chilling enough to help wake him up.

He could do it. He'd be the most feared. He could move to a larger city and people who had never heard of him would scream his name. His smile grew sinister, eyes glazing over. New York could wait though, breakfast first. He must've been staring out the window a little too long because a rhythmic beeping met his ears, that belonging to the laundry machine. He took it all out, the hoodie, gloves, and pants. His mask had been washed by hand before he fell asleep, thanking his past self for doing that.

All the items went in a backpack he ordered specifically to carry his outfit, and he fought an urge to cover up his face. It's not that he didn't like it he just- he'd spent so long wearing a mask it felt weird to be without one. He may have not minded his face, but he did hate other people looking at it. College, his mother had said. Make friends there instead of online.

Show. Your. Face.

He frowned, turning away from anything that could reflect himself back at him. He didn't want to be without anything, but he couldn't really cover his face up. The school needed everyone visible in case of crime or anything- it was stupid and a dress code he had to follow. It made him upset and made him want to lash out. It made him want to walk through people's dreams and leave nightmares behind him. Leave eternal torture and suffering, metaphorical pain. Wounds in another world that didn't carry over.

He wanted to hurt people, he wanted to hurt people so badly. It was his favorite thing to do.

His name might've been Dream, but like George had said. He was a nightmare.


	3. Two - Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2046 Words

Drip.

Drop...

Drip.

Drop...

Florida tended to rain. Since no one was sleeping at this certain time of the day, the dirty blonde had to walk outside in the sprinkling droplets. They fell on the bridge of his nose, in his hair, even on his eyelashes. He hated it. He was fighting a large grimace, keeping the small smile that was the only difference between him and the nightmare he became when the sky blacked out.

Dream during the day was a gentle soul, a classic good samaritan that helped old ladies across the street. The guy that would laugh at your jokes if no one else did.

Clay. He was Clay during the day. People waving at him between classes and getting that small smile back for their effort, asking him for help with homework. He was a model student.

He loathed it.

The charming aura he gave off angered him to no end. People so ready to come up to him for anything- he hated it. Not only did he have such a disdain for his face being out in the open constantly but... Everyone was staring, everyone stared every chance they got.

He hated being stared at. Clay and his alter ego despised it. It made him feel sick.

He didn't let others realize this though, smiling instead when they'd look his way.

He wasn't at school though, he had been walking around his apartment, packing up all of his things to travel. Now he was on the street. Sure it wasn't Harvard or even MIT that he was going to (even though he could probably get in)- but it was still a good college. 

He'd see George, Nick, and Darryl which would make it even better to be in a new place. He was just really excited about the whole thing. Walking along, hearing other's protest the rain, he allowed himself a smile- bobbing his head to a silent symphony. He added the words.

"It's a... bitch, convincing people to like you~" It was soft, nearly a whisper so no one would hear it. He looked ahead, continuing the words to the tune. He was smiling all the while, disguising it softly. Someone that he passed turned around to look back at him as they realized the words coming out of his mouth. He paid them no mind, sashaying from side to side gently. He tightened his hand's hold on his bag's strap, falling to just hum the rest as he walked up the steps to his old college. The second he was out of sight- he sighed, materializing into shadow.

He appeared again, faraway- miles from where he was last seen. Arms draped across the shoulders of a security guard at the base of the Statue of Liberty, dozing off. His first victim in his new home. He simply opened his second pair of eyes, not trapping this man- killing him instead by snapping his neck with a crazed smile. He continued to hum the song as he spun around and walked away from the statue and newly dead man.

Walking down steps, this time away from a building instead of towards it. He slid down a simple stair railing, feet touching the ground as he hopped off with a smile. "Lock the doors and close the blinds we're going for a ride~" He stared out at the mainland, circling the island-like area to join a group of college students who were travelling back over. He smiled, blending in perfectly.

Though, not just blending in- belonging. He was supposed to be here earlier but... 'traffic was slow'.

【－－－】

Someone else was in that group of students, strawberry-blonde hair being affected by the salty breeze. His unimpressed face was held in his hands as he looked over the edge of the ferry, following along with his class. He hadn't noticed the new guy join, but he did see him- thinking nothing of it. He never memorized people in his class, thinking it was just another kid he never noticed. 

They looked shy, awkwardly laughing to someone on the side. He didn't pay any further attention to them, instead choosing to stare out onto the water. He could see his reflection in the water, light sapphire- aquamarine eyes staring back at him with boredom.

It hadn't been a long ferry ride back to the mainland, everyone filing into groups to walk back. The teacher that had taken everyone over for the small break started calling names. "Clay?- Oh wait Clay was absent this morning-"

The dirty-blonde nerd he'd seen earlier shyly raised his hand. "Sorry, I was late and decided to join you guys there." The pinkette stared at him, he was new. He had a strange feeling he couldn't shake about him. But he shook it anyway since he really didn't care about some shy little nerd who was late to class.

He walked back with his group, silent while they talked. Wilbur lagged behind a bit, elbowing him. "Dave, cheer up." He smiled, the boy in the yellow sweater was usually able to do that easily and make others follow. The pinkette continued to frown softly. "Or... Don't that's okay too. Hey, you see the new guy yet?-" He pointed over to the dirty-blonde, seemingly trying to do his best to make friends. A colorblind brunette, a glasses-wearing dweeb, and an overexcited raven were already talking to him. 

"Yeah." He spoke with a monotone, not really listening too much. It's not that he didn't care it's just- he really didn't fucking care. He only looked forward to getting back to school and having it end so he could nap before patrolling the streets.

Patrolling under a different name with a crown atop his head and a robe adorning his shoulders. A sword would be hidden underneath the red-furred cape. A sword that sliced through any person trying to disturb the peace of New York.

He wouldn't get to do that till night time though. For now, he was Dave Pandel. A simple college student, a simple person trying to major in English. It was truly a mistake, but he wanted to be a writer, so to him it wasn't one.

The ferry ride was too boring, in fact- he himself was too boring. Too boring to remember. Someone much more interesting was talking to people he'd previously beat up the other night.

They had lowered their voices so others couldn't hear them. "You have it all set up for tonight right?-" Clay.

The previously mentioned colorblind brunette that was noticed by a random guy who as of now has no significance pushed up his glasses. The enchroma lenses inside where fully covering his eyes, allowing him to see the difference between the blonde and the blonde's sweater. "Yep, waterproof covering just in case it rains."

"Pyrotechnics are already set up as well, you just need to give the word." The raven had punctuated his sentence with a smile. It was hard to believe they knew the person talking to them had almost completely beat their asses within an inch of their lives.

The brunette's light-blue turtleneck was a giveaway sign that there was a bruise from the hand that'd almost crushed his windpipe. The final of the trio, pushed their own glasses up, taking a bite out of the muffin they'd brought on the trip. "You'll be connected, and we'll be around for backup just in case someone tries to interfere before you're done."

The blonde smiled softly at them all. "Thanks guys. It's good to see you all again."

"It's been years, hasn't it?" The raven fiddled with his hair, wishing he had his headband. "It's good to have you back, Clay."

"I'd hope so Nick."

School was boring, sitting in the back of a class and typing away on a computer, finalizing connections for his big reveal. Tonight was the night.

【－－－】

Tonight. Suited up with the mask over his emerald eyes and freckled features, hood pulled up over his dirty-blonde hair. He slipped out the window of the school dormitory room he was given. He'd unpacked and suited up the second he got back. It was a brick wall lined alleyway outside the window.

He looked out in the darkness that had fallen over the brick walls on his sides, spreading his hands out but crossing his legs to spin around. He jumped and used the landing to slip onto the ground. Dancing, he was dancing and putting on a show for no one but himself.

He started on a simple note, an octave lower than he usually did. It was the same song from the early morning, but instead of whispering, he was nearly belting it out. Flipping around on his toes to slide to the ground against an alleyway brick wall- kicking back up and jumping out at the end of the alley.

The street wasn't even close to empty, the mass of people splitting and making a path for him to move through. He must've been that frightening- starting up his singing again, perfectly in tune. People were stopping to look at him, the loner without an umbrella, wearing a mask, and singing about killing people.

Even if the night was this busy, it didn't matter too much to him- the people were staring but he couldn't find it in him to care.

He slipped into the shadows- back into the light- and plunged himself into darkness for a final time. He felt like some Disney villain with the way he sang, the street lamp he was under flickering on just in time to sing that last line, a faulty bulb flickering out when he finished up. And that's the direction he tilted his head- upwards. Rain poured down on him, trickling down the porcelain mask and down in the neck of his outfit.

It was just like a musical in his mind. The world creating the perfect scenario for him. Singing was the perfect way to warm up his voice for all the 'world domination' speeches he'd be making. He hooked a foot around the base of a streetlight, swiftly climbing to perch on top of the lamp. "People of New York City-" He couldn't hear the speakers going off, frowning. All of this had been planned in advance for his big reveal- if it was fucked he wasn't going to be happy one bit. He cleared his throat- tapping the microphone on the headpiece he wore. "People of New York City!" It was louder that time, blasting from almost every speaker in town, even in-home television and cinema screens had been taken over. He looked to his right for a drone with a camera attached to be positioned near his face, over-riding video feed as well. He knew who this drone belonged to, a crude '404' drawn on it in red marker.

He stood up on top of the street lamp, showing off his impeccable balance. "Things are going to be changing. You've probably never heard of me before, so let me introduce myself as Dream! That's what they call me. Feel free to call me a Nightmare though, since any run-in with me sure will be torturous and you'll wish you could just wake up."

He slipped back to sit down, legs dangling off the edge of the lamp. The drone circled him, showing his back. "Right now, I'm in Time Square, and I'll be putting on a show for all of you- I hope you don't mind the smell of gunpowder." He put a hand to his thin headset, nodding once. 

There were screams and the sounds of glass shattering behind him- an explosion. "I hope you'll all accept me as your most terrifying villain, good people of New York. But for now-" He was going to expose himself to the tabloids, revealing the power they didn't know he had. "I bid all of you, as the French say, adieu." He bowed, enveloping himself in shadow and dematerializing off the lamp post.

Someone unwanted had watched his performance. Someone wearing a crown with an ice-cold stare with ice-blue eyes. A scarlet cloak hung off their shoulders, and an unimpressed purse of the lips showed how they felt about it.


	4. Three - Rooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2571 Words

He hadn't gone too far, appearing on a street lamp that was just adjacent to the one he was previously standing on. He tapped the microphone again. "Just kidding! Miss me already? I know you did, don't worry I'm not leaving y'all just yet." He nodded, another thing exploding as he continued to disappear to reappear on the next lamp down the line.

A pink-haired hero, dressed like a pirate and a king at the same time, had shot directly into action. People were caught in the rubble from the explosion, him helping pull them out. He allowed his vision to wander to the green-hooded villain who literally did a fucking backflip off the pole, sticking the landing perfectly and adjusting their headset.

"There are bombs wired all around Time Square, I'll keep setting them off one by one until it hits midnight in exactly an hour. Any attempts to stop me will be met with my finger slipping a little too early and setting all of them off at once. Evacuate if you want- but the buildings are going down." The cops had already been called, setting up a bit of a road block. "I thought you heard me a few seconds ago- attempting to stop me kills everyone!" He slipped something out of his pocket, a comical switch. "If I flip this it all goes 'KABLAM'! I don't think you want that-" The cops all looked at eachother, aiming their guns and the green-hooded boy. "Or maybe you do- heh."

He put his finger over the button, crouching down to avoid a shot aimed for his head. "I wouldn't fire too close, civilian lives are in danger-" Someone clearly didn't listen, firing another shot that was avoided by just falling to his stomach, getting his clothes fully wet.

The pink-haired hero had been distracted with helping people escape, unable to go over and attack the villain. He cursed under his breath, pushing a kid out of the way of a falling chunk of concrete.

The villain though, was literally dancing to avoid bullet shots- getting closer to the cops. He pressed the button, smiling as cars went up behind him and people screamed louder at the fact multiple buildings had exploded at once. He jumped up onto the roof of a car, scrambling up a light post and onto the roof of a different building. He waved down at the police still trying to shoot him- making a motion as if he was a librarian shushing someone and dissipated into shadow.

He'd reappeared in his bed, morning having already come- all his time spent in the place between worlds. A state of consciousness, split from sleeping person to one another. He rolled his neck, hearing the pops as he unhooked the mask, still smiling. His hood had been shed, the article of clothing falling in a sopping wet bundle on his carpeted floor. The rest of his clothes went with it, soaking jeans and boxers. He just yawned, ruffling his wet hair and walking around to go grab a towel and wrap it around his waist. He avoided looking in the bathroom mirror, yawning and stretching.

He used the towel to dry himself off, picking out fresh and dry clothes to attend his courses wearing. A simple white button-up with a green sweater thrown over, jeans- he laced up his boots, frowning at the fact they were still a little wet inside. He just rolled his eyes and laced them up- pulling his messenger bag over his head to settle the strap over his shoulder, bag hitting against his left thigh. He messed up his hair even more, smiling to himself and grabbing his room key as he left to attend classes.

【－－－】

He'd heard about it in passing. A beginning of the year party being thrown at a frat house, anyone was invited if they knew where it was. He'd of course found out, deciding it'd be the perfect place for him and his team to discuss some plans without being suspicious. People would probably be drunk and drugged up, even if they heard anything they'd forget. He had just barely had the patience to wait for night time to arrive again- passing the time by doing class work.

He walked into the party, head hung low and eyes searching. His friends were here and he needed to find them. He was still completely sober, and he planned to stay that way- but by the noises bouncing off the wall, along with the bodies with their drinks in their cups, he knew he was going to probably succumb. He'd made his way to the back of the room, a small balcony. There wasn't anyone out there except for someone with pink hair smoking a cigarette, holding their phone, and nursing a drink with the other hand. Smoke wasn't his thing- he turned around to head back in. Music blared loud in his ears, Brendon Urie singing about a drunken escapade, a night on the town.

His friends were close, the raven of the group's hair visible- tied up and out of his face with a white bandana. Clay was making his way over when a cup was shoved into his face. He didn't take it.

"You should loosen up, pretty boy. Get smashed, have fun- maybe get lucky-" The person had left, forcing him to take the drink before stumbling away, drunk off their ass. They'd collapsed before they made it to the front door

He looked at the amber liquid in the cup, and back to the person on the floor a few feet from him. He just shrugged, sipping. It tasted off but he didn't mind it- he'd never drank before either but- something about it just didn't taste right. He pushed the rest of the way "I'm here, what's this about?-"

"Finally- we've been waiting for you. So- your introduction- great."

"Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that the media is already trying to cover the incident." The brunette had pushed his enchroma glasses up to rest in his hair instead of on the bridge of his nose.

He nodded, sipping from the red solo cup. He swore there was some sort of fume in the air making him feel loopy. He stared at the cup, frowning. "Someone pass me their phone-" He drug a hand down his face as Darryl handed to him. He flipped the flashlight on, holding it under the cup to see what looked like small fingernail clippings.

"Did someone just try to roofie you?-"

"That'd be a first-" He dumped the drink out onto the stained carpeting of the house, holding a hand to the side of his face as he crushed the cup with the other. He was still standing, and he could still listen

"Alright so- as I was saying... You did great and the media already hates and wants to know who you are. Your picture is all over Twitter too-" He opened his own phone, shoving it in the blonde's face to show him and green-hooded and masked figure bowing on top of a street lamp.

He just squinted at it, then staring down at the red plastic on the floor- he definitely didn't feel sober anymore. He used the wall to support himself. "I know I said we'd use this as an excuse to talk but- fuck it. Darryl, you're the designated driver." He immediately bummed a blunt off someone passing by, lighting up and smiling

"I didn't agree to-" The others were already whooping at the fact their blonde friend was getting his buzz on "Alright then-"

After that, the night was a blur. Blurs of red and blue and red and blue and green and pink and yellow and someone's lips. He was throwing his arms around someone's shoulders and feeling a hand push it's way under his sweater- just smiling at them, even if he couldn't focus on their face "Wanna get out of here?-"

They didn't have time to answer, someone grabbing them out of the hold and pulling them away. It was the guy who had been smoking earlier.

"Thanks for keeping him company, but he has to go now." He didn't wait for Clay to respond in any way, shape, or form before dragging the boy he'd been making out with away and out the front door.

He just smiled to himself, giggling

"Woah- Clay, I saw you getting it on, don't you think it's time we should leave?-"

He just waved his hand dismissively in the other's direction, still smiling "He said he'd call me later- you wanna know the funny part?-"

He seemed a little uneasy, seeing his friend like this. "What's the funny part?-"

"The guy doesn't even have my number!-" He threw his hands in the air- walking off to a table where shot glasses were, all in a row. It was a take one, fill one, TAKE one deal. He of course took two before standing on the table "Who wants to see me do a flip!-" He yelled it over the loud music watching some people look away from what they were doing to turn to him and start recording with their phones

"I don't think that's a good idea-" His words feel on deaf ears as the blonde situated literally backflipping off the table and landing perfectly, no wobbles no nothing. People were screaming and going wild over it

"Wooh! Let's fucking go!-" He threw one of the shot glasses at the table, watching the glass shatter and bounce off the wood, scattering shards everywhere. He put his hands up "Who wants to go makeout!-"

Next thing he remembered was being pushed against a wall, hands going around another pair of shoulders while he giggled to himself- sliding his hands to the base of their neck. He doesn't remember what they looked like or who they were- but it was him this time being pulled out of a kiss. It was Darryl, pulling him away. He whined- reaching for the guy he'd been smooching up a storm with- only to find them having moved on to kiss someone else. He sighed- turning to his friend "Why did you do that?-"

"Because we're going home- you're too trashed to stay and I don't want your mom calling us or something."

He just frowned, letting Darryl lead him out- except he heard something. He dug his heels into the carpet so Darryl would be forced to stay. "This is my fucking jam- we have to stay." He wiggled his hand until it was free, turning around and pressing himself up against a wall- using it as a crutch to get to the speakers and steal a microphone

He pranced around- putting it up to his mouth in time to sing. There was no doubt that he knew the words "Welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life. Done my time and served my sentence- dress me up and watch me die." He smiled into the microphone, singing the rest of the lyrics, tone matching that of his villain counterpart. He slipped to his knees, peopel having gathered to watch him. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and kicking his legs up. One was thrown out while a knee was brought to his chest, the hand not holding the micrphone went to mess up his hair that'd had two pairs of hands in it previously that night. "I'm taking back the crown! I'm all dressed up and naked... I see what's mine and take it-"

People were recording at this point, but he didn't really mind- he quickly flipped back over so he was sitting on his knees- slipping the hands from his hair down his face with the lyrics coming out of his mouth. He'd hopped back up onto his feet swiftly- sitting on top of a speaker and hearing everyone else who knew the words chant along with him. "Sycophants on velvet sofas, lavish mansions, vintage wine... I am so much more than royal- snatch your chain and mace your eyes." Someone recording his performance caught his attention. It was the same guy that ruined his first makeout session of the night, also known as the smoking guy from when he first arrived. When he first arrived... That had to be at least two hours ago by now. He pranced on over to the pinkette, smiling and smirking as he'd basically shoved himself into his lap, the other boy having been sitting on a trashed couch.

The pinkette had seen the blondie a total of two other times that night, four in total, and now he had the tall guy on his lap. He just stared up, unimpressed as they sang, slowly putting their face closer to him. He watched them drop the microphone when they finished, immediatley grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him on into a kiss. He didn't mind it, and didn't make any moves to break out, but there also weren't any moves to encourage it to continue.

Clay had whispered the last bit in his ear "I see what's mine I take it..." His hand slipped down, letting go of their shirt and sitting back in the other's lap, smiling and laughing. People were clapping and the brunette with lighter hair than the color-blind one was grabbing his tall friend's arm, pulling him up. He waved goodbye to the pink haired boy, turning on his heels. When they were outside he smiled wider. "Think we still got time to rob a bank or something? I'm on an adrenaline kick-"

"You're high on something alright.."

"Is that a yes or a no?-"

"It's a no... We didn't think you'd be the kind of person to get drunk and high off their ass like that, Clay." The brunette spoke with a bit of an accent, annoying the blonde a teeny bit.

"I didn't think I was either." He was barely able to walk on his own, moving a hand through his hair with a small smile. The street lamps were all bright in the dark sky as he was pushed into the backseat of a van. It was like one of those high-tech police stake-out vans. There were computers and everything in the back. He just sighed, sitting down normally and sprawling out on the seat. He whined once- putting the crook of his elbow over his eyes. "It's too bright in here-"

The lights weren't even on, Darryl rolling his eyes and putting the key in the ignition to drive off. They had a rented parking space in the parking lot outside their dormitory, all of them helping Clay up and into his room, just dumping him on his bed before leaving him alone.

He whined at each jerky movement, finally relishing in the peace and quiet with only a small headache that'd be sure to hurt more in the morning. He sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and using his last few waking minutes to check Twitter. A new hashtag was trending- #WhoIsDream. He smiled, tweeting out his own thing with the hashtag. " _ **Whoever he is, he sure does have a nice ass. #WhoIsDream**_ ". He sent the tweet, rolling over and not even bothering to charge his phone before he passed out.


End file.
